The Hawk Queen Bed 9:40pm
I hear The Waves
My Backdrop to The Peepers
with My Husband’s Warm Hand
across My Left Arm
I am in My Cradle
My Bassinet
I will lie here
until
I die
Barrington Passage 6:15pm
I could sing a song
of cars & women —
all My Husband’s responsibility —
oil for The Lincoln Eliza refuses to drive
beer for My imbibere
& dinner reservations
The Hawk 4:50pm
I sing My Heart out
for every sailor Who comes along
for My Son Who’s later than expected
driving from Montreal
with an Australian
ready to take in Nova Scotia
–
I stumble over being A Mother
to My 25 year-old Son
skipping stones as if He were 9
& I forgot to buy more beer
in case He & His Buddy come back
before the obligatory good-bye
Highway 103, NS 5:00pm
Today at The Halifax Shopping Centre
I saw Two Muslim Women
talking on cell phones
through Head Scarves —
One Face completely veiled —
This Day when Hunter bought
smoky quartz earrings
for My Early Birthday
The Hawk Dining Room 12:50pm
He’s out there write now
pecking around the stone wall
dividing our property from the neighbours’
He’s a Northern Flicker
with a brilliant red crest
on the back of His Head
black bib under His Chin
(if birds have chins)
tabby striping on His Back
& buff with black spots underneath
He’s been here since I first spotted Him
at the other stone wall along the drive
— He seems to find stuff
among the rocks
with His Long Beak — He’s a Woodpecker
Colaptes Auratus
Oh, He just pooped!
Note: He’s a She – minus a back “moustache”
The Tomato-coloured Couch 8:25pm
In The Mid-nineties
I lay in bed for weeks
unbathed
wanting to die
not caring for my family
— why write it here —
here where I am happy & satisfied?
because I am in a lull
& I don’t have My Two-year-old Daughter
tearing covers off Me
insisting, “Mom — get up —
Yer Starvin'”
The Hawk Kitchen 5:45pm
OK, I’ve had it
with this star-quality house dust
blanketing every dark surface
in My Maid-free Home —
I see The Night Sky
on My Kitchen Radio
shaped like an alien’s head
& crumbs of cat treats
in the Milky Way
of My New Kitchen Floor
The Hawk Living Room 3:15pm
Here, take This Silver-bricked
Highway
out to Your Island
take Your Golden-haired Daughter
out to Her Corral
take Your Silver-haired Husband
out of His Office
fly Your Little Man
over the scrub spruce
out to Your Paradisical Beach
The Tomato-coloured Couch 4:30pm
I heard Your Name
Callin’ W
over the loud speaker
@ Sobey’s
Today
W/ Dr Blair
Who Thinks
You’re OK
The Hawk West Desk Window 2:10pm
I have seized the mystical
2222
against a patch of blue
on My Basement Wall
I glimpsed It, blinked It
from My C2 Rower
measuring metres/distance
for My Preparatory Trip
to another
Galaxy
